


You got your stories all twisted up with mine

by garglyswoof



Category: The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Heist AU, alternative mystic falls, backstories altered to suit writerly whims, caroline as grifter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-08 17:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16433768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garglyswoof/pseuds/garglyswoof
Summary: When Caroline's greatest con is ruined by a pompous vampire, she's not sure she'll be able to recover. But when he offers her a job, to steal something from the self-appointed "king" of Mystic Falls, she can't refuse the chance to get back at Marcel and ensure her and her mom are safe for the rest of their lives. And so what if it's the same Klaus Mikaelson that ruled Mystic Falls with a bloody smile for centuries? She can handle him... until she realizes that planning a heist with a thousand-year-old vampire isn't as easy as she'd thought.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaLainaJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/gifts).



> For Laine. Thank you for so many amazing stories over the years. I am terrified I bit off more than I could chew here, but I really wanted to write something with an intricate plot as I thought you would dig it.  
> Much inspiration and mood drawn from The Lies of Locke Lamora, with a tinge of Six of Crows. Both are great books, so hopefully the tiniest bit of their genius managed to sneak its way into this fic when i wasnt looking.

This evening, as the witchlights hung low and splayed colored light across the blades of his cheekbones, Klaus walked through a city divided. It wasn’t visible, not on the surface, not in the walls of the buildings or the cobblestone-lined streets, not in the spindly wonder of the Wickery Bridge as it arched over the churning water of the town’s namesake. Mystic Falls was divided, instead, by the people.

Those with him, and those against.

And Marcel had cast his hand in such a bold move that Klaus would have marveled in it if he wasn’t so enraged. Which was why he was outside tonight, walking through the streets, glaring up at the old wizard’s tower that he had once gifted Marcel as a father would a son and would you _believe_ the gall?

Klaus was counting allies tonight. He shot the cuffs of his coat after wiping his hands clean, the body of a vampire too slow to show his fealty sliding down to rest almost sleepily against the wall bordering the street. The sounds of the Harvest Festival at city center almost drowned out the scrape of skin against stone. A gas station festooned with the murky glow of witchlights drew his attention, the flash of blonde hair bright amidst the dimmed light. Three figures, two heartbeats.

He wondered if this vampire was on his side, and wandered in close to check. He’d never seen her before, though it wasn’t surprising in a city this large. Her face was open, almost guileless, and the smile that broke across her face as she exchanged pleasantries with the clerk had his own mouth unconsciously lifting at the corners. He listened as her heels rang across the floor, watching as something dark passed across her face, fleeting but intriguing, and Klaus cocked his head, leaning back against the storefront across the street, a foot crossing over an ankle as he settled in fully invested.

She knelt down and Klaus watched something sparkling drop from her sleeve to the palm of her hand to the scuffed linoleum of the gas station, heard her exclaim in feigned surprise. The customer who’d been eyeing her ass from behind her in line knelt down next to her, eyeing the bright shine of jewelry in the blonde’s hand, a chorus of surprise now, the ring up on the counter and the clerk joining in. “That’s real, I’d swear it. My uncle works in the diamond district.”

The girl’s back was now to Klaus, annoyingly, but he could still hear her response. “Oh but, who could have dropped it? Someone’s probably freaking out right now.” Her voice rose. “What if it’s an heirloom?” The customer pat her on the shoulder with a meaty hand that Klaus had an unbidden urge to sever at the wrist, but he was too amused to give the feeling much thought.

And there, _right on time_ , the phone rang and the clerk answered, his face brightening as he listened and responded, pointing at the blonde and back at the phone. “Yeah, wow, a customer JUST found it. You’re in luck!” A pause. “Well true, yeah _ha ha_ would’ve totally been better not to lose it, but it’s- yeah, hold on.” He handed the phone to the blonde and her curls fell across her shoulder, her face turning so Klaus could once again see her - the lines of her profile and the sweep of long lashes. She was saying something into the phone in a soothing voice, but Klaus was distracted by the rasp in it, this rough contrast to her angelic looks.

Besides, he knew _exactly_ what was going on, the smile that had started out in reaction to her own was now stretched across his face in a knowing grin, and he shot a text or two off to some hybrids, curious to know more about this enticing con artist in his own city. She turned her head then, shooting a glance that went straight to his own, and he noted she hid her surprise well at finding someone looking back, stuttering her words for just a moment in surprise as she handed the phone back to the clerk. Klaus walked away, because her loyalty wasn’t in question tonight. She clearly played her own side, and he’d find out more about her later.

* * *

  
“Yeah she’s offering a reward,” Caroline said, willing her heart to slow down. That was the first thing her dad had taught her about the con - keeping calm was key. “People are lazy, Carebear. They want to believe. Make it easy for them.” Easier said than done, dad. That stranger across the street at thrown her off.

But he was gone now, and she had a metric ton of medical bills to pay. She pushed herself back in the moment and adopted a confused look. “But that should go to all of us, yeah? I mean,” she waved at the clerk, “it’s your gas station, and you,” she pointed at the customer whose eyes jolted up from staring at her tits ugh “you’d have found it if I didn’t. I mean it was all bright and shining on the floor, no way you could have missed. So it’s not fair for me to just take it all!”

“Did the lady say when she’d be here?”

“Yeah about an hour. Which...oh no!” Caroline let the realization dawn across her face. “Oh my god you guys, I can’t wait here. I’ve got a job interview downtown in 20 minutes. It's an evening shift? I just came for some water because I get so nervous before interviews, you know, and I wanted to calm down and keep hydrated - they say to keep hydrated, right? For nervousness?” Panic edged into her voice and she inwardly smiled at the sympathetic expression on the clerk’s face, the patronizing one on Mr. Sleazeball’s.

“Relax,” said Sleazeball. “You’ve got plenty of time to get there, we’ll work this out.”

“Yeah, the lady said it was a family heirloom? 600 for reward?” The clerk added, clearly wanting to help.

Mr. Sleazeball slid some bills from his wallet with an almost pompous gesture. the rich man's greed of earning easy money clear in his eyes. “I’ll just pay you for your share now. We’ll wait for Mrs.?”

“Gilbert. Mrs. Gilbert.” Caroline took the money tentatively, tucking it in her purse. “I’m just so glad there’s honest people out there that are willing to return it. So glad I found it with you guys. Aaaand,” she started breathing exaggeratedly, “In through the nose, out through the mouth,” she said, pausing in the doorway as she walked away, “Thank you so much. Wish me luck, I’m gonna need it!” With a last self-deprecating eyeroll, she was gone, 200 dollars richer and minus a fake ring.

* * *

  
Fell’s Church was a neighborhood nestled just above the industrial section of Mystic Falls. Noxious fumes from the potion makers and the coal-fired engines of the plants below made the price of homes reasonably low in what would otherwise be considered a quaint part of town. Something that was necessary with the one-income family they’d become when Mr. Forbes had left. Regardless of the reason, Caroline loved the neighborhood, with the old wizard’s house crowning the hill, its replica falls made out of ensorcelled glass. These falls sang when the wind blew, the air flowing through chambers wrought with ancient magic and filling the air with sound. Caroline thought it hauntingly beautiful, and even more fitting this time of year, when the harvest festival filled the nights with the floating glowglobes Mystic Falls residents called witchlights.

Caroline smiled as a girl waved from her yard, dressed up with a witch hat and vampire fangs. Caroline willed the veins to spread down her eyes and hissed, then crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out. The girl shrieked with laughter and Caroline’s heart felt light.

Her phone rang with a call she’d been dreading as she crested the hill, heading past the wizard’s house in the final leg of her journey home. “I know, Bonnie.”

“Care…”

“I get it, I do. I won’t ask you again, if I can help it.”

A sigh from the other end. “Look I know you need help with meds, but there’s got to be another way.”

Caroline scoffed into the phone, her lip curling unconsciously. “Tell that to Marcel. Raising the price on mom’s medication has made it impossible to keep up. Bonnie - you know if there was another option I’d take it. I don’t want to be like my dad, but I’ll sure as hell use the things I learned from him to keep my mom alive if I have to.”

Another sigh, the noise of running water. Bonnie must have been starting a potion.

“Well,” Bonnie drawled, “you know I’m not the biggest fan of Marcel. Trying to control all the witch’s power was totally a bad idea. In Mystic Falls?” Caroline could hear the scoff in her friend’s voice and smiled. She could see her house now, a few blocks ahead, lit by the porch light her mom insisted on keeping on until Caroline was home each night.

“Why do I get the feeling there’s a -but- coming?”  
Bonnie laughed. “I’m just saying. Hate on Marcel all you want. I’m right there with you. But,” they both laughed, “don’t ever forget that Klaus Mikaelson is the alternative. Grams says that this town was a LOT bloodier when he was more actively taking part in running things.”

“Eh I don’t know, Bonnie. I mean, I’m sure I’d have a bone to pick with him too, but right now he’s not standing in the way of my mom’s access to medication that freaking keeps her alive. Anyway, look, I get it. I know you can’t help anymore,” Caroline said, continuing as she heard Bonnie start to protest. “I know I can count on you for almost anything, but I don’t want you to be a part of my life of sordid crime.” A pause as she climbed up to the porch, a slab of ancient weirwood sloping gently around her house, glowing softly from within. “I mean, I'll need someone to bail me out, right?”

Caroline hung her bag up, realizing her mom was still at physical therapy. She’d been injured in a shootout late last year, just after the harvest festival actually, Caroline realized with idle surprise. The bullet had been witch-laced, a curse that had spread out from the wound into her mom’s entire body. Medication kept it at bay. Spellsurgery would fix things permanently, but affording it on disability pay was next to impossible.

Which was why Caroline was out in the streets, working small cons like the ring trick, selling fake vervain water to Mystic Falls tourists who’d come for the supernatural thrill, working every scam Bill Forbes had shown her as some sort of twisted father-daughter bond. Quick cons were always easier with another person, he’d told her when she was six. She’d been a quick study.

Still, small time stuff like that wasn’t going to be enough. Caroline grabbed a bag of B positive from the mini-fridge - god forbid she store blood in the regular refrigerator - and sat down at the kitchen table with a folder stuffed with papers. Her masterwork. The con of all cons. The gig that was about to earn her enough money to pay for the spellsurgery so that maybe her mom’s life could go back to normal. She leaned over her notes, chin resting in the palm of her hand, ticking off each item in her head one more time check check check.

Thirty minutes later Caroline packed away her notes at the sound of her mom’s car down the street. She threw the kettle on and pasted on a smile as she watched her mom limp in the door, the dark magic visible, snaking out from the crook of her elbow, a tracery of darkness at the collar. Those first few days after the shooting, when the hospital couldn’t quite figure out how to halt the spell with medication, had done their worst, and Liz sat down heavily on a recliner in the living room, her face the strained mask of the chronically pained.

It made Caroline angry and hopeless and frustrated and sad and determined.

“Oh thanks hon,” Liz said absentmindedly as she accepted a mug of hot tea. “I hope you haven’t been out too much today, the festival is bringing out the crazies in force. They even considered pulling me off of desk duty to help out.” Her mom smiled a half-smile, wry and wistful, as Caroline sat down across from her and curled up under a blanket. “It’s hard when that’s where I want to be. But when your own employment can’t fork up the cash for a spellsurgeon they can force captains on beats before me. Good for them to get on the streets every once in a while anyway.” Liz peered at her daughter’s face, taking a sip of her tea. “So what’s got you distracted?”

“Yeah,” Caroline answered automatically, the words registering a moment later. “Oh - sorry, I’m just thinking.”

Her mom laughed. “Care, I can practically see the smoke coming out of your ears.” She paused. “You’re working too hard.”

Caroline felt a spike of guilt. She’d told her mom she was working as a salesperson for a vervain water company (which was at least somewhat related to her gig tomorrow, she tried to tell herself). It wasn’t like she could tell her sheriff mom who divorced her dad because of grifting that she was out there conning people for a living. But she’d tried the straight and narrow, and it simply wasn’t enough to pay the bills. Her anger stifled the guilt. “You get anywhere on the medical reimbursements?”

Liz looked up from blowing on her tea, set the cup down with a weary gesture. “Caroline. I don’t want you worrying about finances. I know I can only say so much, you’re such a help, and I couldn’t do this without you, but I’ll find a way to make this all work. There’s some things we can sell, some extra shifts I can pick up. This is not all on you.” She dipped her head to catch Caroline’s avoidant gaze. “Look, the council that raised the costs of my meds is a bunch of coddled jerks that Marcel is serving the city to on a plate so that he can get support.”

“Yeah well he’s on my shitlist too, don’t you worry,” Caroline grumbled.

“I’m not done.” Liz raised a finger and Caroline shrunk back into the couch, cowed by the authoritative tone. She almost expected her mom to call out her full birth name. “Marcel and the Council are bad, but they’re a known evil. Greed, corruption, power. Don’t you ever forget that the Mikaelsons are worse. You’ve grown up during Marcel’s reign, but the increased cost of medication is worlds apart from knowing you’d die in a heartbeat if you crossed the Mikaelsons.”

Caroline was confused. “Yeah, Bonnie said the same thing. I get it, but why are you bringing this up?”

“Because Marcel did something, not sure what, I’m just hearing rumblings on the street. He did something that Klaus isn’t willing to let slide, and there’s a war coming. I’m surprised, you being a vampire, that they haven’t asked you to choose sides yet.”

“I pretty much stay out of the way.”

“Good. Keep it that way. And never forget that both of the vampire kings are bad in their own way, but Klaus is the dangerous one. ”

“Have you ever dealt with Klaus, or is this just from reading old cases?”

“Yes, I have.” Liz shuddered. “He’s less obviously charming than Marcel, probably because he’s fond of threats instead of Marcel’s sly camaraderie. But he’s smart, devious, has a thousand years of studying human,” she paused, considering, “and monster nature.” Liz looked up, dragged an ottoman closer to her with a hooked ankle, settling in to the topic. “You know the history of Mystic Falls, right?”

Caroline shrugged. “I mean, what I learned in school. The wizards built everything, but they became so power hungry that they sucked the magic out of the world and created the veil.”

“Right, and the Mikaelsons stopped them from destroying more than just Steven’s Quarry.”

Caroline snorted. “I’ve seen the statue of Kol in the city square, mom. What’s this history lesson about, what are you trying to get at?”

Liz sighed. “Thousands of people died. Almost the entire town, really. Many died from the veil's creation, some from spells, but many more died as victims of the Original's bloodlust, fodder in the war between the factions, fuel for their supernatural fury," she said with a wry smile. "At least that's how the Council book puts it, and while it may be melodramatic, the point is this: better the devil you know. If Klaus really is trying to vie for power, who knows if the rest of them will come back, and who knows if Mystic Falls will even survive."

"OK, I get it. Though can I ask one thing?" Her mom nodded. "Can I still hate Marcel with the power of a thousand burning suns?"

Liz Forbes laughed and nodded again. "I would expect nothing less from my flesh and blood."

* * *

Klaus hated the smell of the harvest festival, that haze of cloying incense, the scent of unwashed bodies, the smell of trash from the almost impromptu street celebrations that marked this time of year. The scents all covered up the core of Mystic Falls, old soil and blood steeped in the magic of the old wizards. Well, old was a relative term, he thought, looking up at the tower he’d helped design, a tower that he’d given to Marcel for his headquarters before his protege had turned on him.

Threats were never to be taken lightly, but what really was a threat to an immortal? Only something that could breach that immortality was to be taken seriously, and Marcel had found it in the cure. This wasn’t something Marcellus had stumbled upon, no, he’d have had to track down ancient rumors and at least a historian or two. And why? Klaus believed himself a lenient man, he’d given over the general running of Mystic Falls while he’d pursued breaking the hybrid curse and frankly didn’t miss it much. Administravia was never his forte.

This was betrayal, pure and simple, and it had to be both resolved and punished. Starting with those who’d helped Marcel find his way through the skeins of rumor to the cure. Klaus’ brother, Kol, had looked into it for Klaus a century ago, but the wizards hadn’t left much of a paper trail, and the Mikaelson brothers had burned what they had found after committing it to memory. So now Klaus was on his way through these streets that reeked like a piece of offal whoring itself to meet up with the one man who would be the first in a long chain of people to be made examples of.

* * *

  
Whitmore College was an hour walk from her neighborhood, so Caroline took the tram, its spindly arm reaching up in homage to the days the cars had briefly run on electricity, some Council scheme that had served to waste tax dollars. Magic now powered the smooth sweep of the tram down the roads, hovering just above the surface of the stones. Caroline checked her face in the mirror, studying her altered appearance. Bonnie’s charms were the best in Mystic Falls, thank goodness. Her hair was a short, dark bob, her nose sharper, chin just a little more pointy. Her eyes were the same, though, having learned through experience that a glamour on her eyes messed with her vision to the point of migraines. She smoothed her hands down her crisp pencil skirt, reciting the details in her head for the three hundredth time. She had been working on this deal for months, spending what little savings she’d managed to come up with to stand up fake business fronts, hire answering services, pay for six different wardrobes and the ingredients for Bonnie’s charms. This was it.

And, if she was being honest, the moment was all the sweeter for getting to pull the wool over the eyes of Dr. Wes Maxwell. She could still hear his patronizing tone as the acting dean of Whitmore, telling her that she needed to “leave to make room for paying students”, her situation be damned. She’d started plotting the next day.

The tram glided to a stop, and while she was still a few blocks away, she hopped off, using the walk to center her thoughts. By 10:57 she was waiting in the dean’s office, binder in hand and smile pasted on.

“Ms. Stevenson, so sorry to keep you waiting,” Dr. Maxwell’s words rang with insincerity fifteen minutes later. “I’ve just been reviewing the mission statement with the board, you know,” he said, conspiratorially, “keep the investors happy!”

“Of course, Dr. Maxwell. It was no trouble,” Caroline grated through her teeth. “I think we’re at a place where this meeting can go smoothly and quickly and get you back to your investors,” she said, keeping the disdain out of her voice with considerable effort. “You’ve had time to review the water samples and the specifications for the new water system?” She pulled out some sheets from her binder, blueprints and specs she’d had drawn up.

“Yes, the recirculation method is remarkable, truly self-contained.” Dr. Maxwell’s eyes grew far away, envisioning a future. “We’ll be a stronghold.” Caroline didn’t miss the change in tense and her heartbeat sped up, knowing how close she was.

“Did you have any other questions for me, Dr. Maxwell? Or are you ready for the contract?” Her voice was clipped, professional, on the edge of blunt. Months of convincing, months of fake expert testimonials, and she was finally here, on the cusp of receiving the first (and what would be the only) installment on a vampire-proof vervain water system. It was the right time to push. “How many vampire attacks has Whitmore seen this semester? How many blind promises can Marcel Gerard give you?”

Dr. Maxwell narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to study her. She held his gaze, confident and unwavering and he graced her with a small smile.

“As much of a fan of vampire politics as I, eh Miss Stevenson?” The question was more of a statement of intent, she watched him pull out a ledger, Time slowed as his pen drew towards the check, the scratch of the nib against the checkbook the sound of triumph in her ears, Dr. Maxwell’s looping script starting to scrawl across the page until he lifted it, his face tilting upwards in surprise, and in a blink the chair was empty, the pen flying through the air untethered.

Caroline jolted her gaze up to see Dr. Maxwell pinned against the bookcases lining his office, held up by his throat, feet kicking ineffectually. She wasn’t sure what to do, still caught in the moment of her triumph suddenly dashed. The stranger ignored her presence, muttering in a low accented voice that sounded familiar. His tone was casual, a contrast to the choking sounds Dr. Maxwell was making.

“Wesley - Wes, can I call you?” The stranger asked, his arm showing no signs of strain. Vampire, then, or wolf? Caroline sniffed. Both? “I’ll take that as assent. I thought we’d come to an agreement, Wes. I leave you to your experiments, you stay out of my business, no?”

Wes tried to choke out an answer and the stranger shook his head, irritated. Caroline regained her mental footing and glanced at the check, but it was unsigned. She was too close to let go of this, too close, so she did the craziest thing she could think of.

“Is this pissing match going to last much longer? Because I was in the middle of a business discussion with Dr. Maxwell,” she said blithely, as if this man wasn’t holding a slowly dying man by his throat. She buffed her nails on her coat to exaggerate the point and the stranger looked up and smiled at her, a grin that broke across his face as he caught her eyes. It was a smile you gave to someone you recognized, someone you knew, and while he seemed familiar her whiplash brain couldn’t figure it out in the confusion.

“Sorry, love, hate to interrupt, but Dr. Maxwell here - Wes - isn’t going to be signing any contracts anytime soon.” He lowered the man down and Dr. Maxwell’s choking breaths filled the air, his hands scrabbling at his throat as he slid down the bookcase to the floor, his legs spread wide, pose incongruous in this stately office.

Caroline glanced up at the stranger’s words with alarm. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I don’t suffer traitors. And he -” the man’s eyes darkened and he turned towards the dean, kneeling down at eye level. Caroline watched in horror as the man almost casually knifed his hand through Dr. Maxwell’s rib cage and pulled out his heart, letting it drop to the polished hardwood with a slick thump. Caroline’s breath stuttered before her self-preservation kicked in and she ran, vamp speeding through the halls of the administration building, cutting out the back entrance and dodging through bodies until she was blocks away, her breath heaving from human instinct.

It didn’t take long for Caroline to get over the fear as she realized what she’d just lost, and anger rose in her chest along with a sense of despair that she swore she’d ignore in a moment, just give her a moment would you?, her breath choking in a checked sob as she stood on the street corner, arms folded across her chest as if to keep her heart in.

“You left your coat, love.” The accented voice. She flashed away instinctively but hit up against the solid warmth of the stranger’s chest, his voice a rumble in her ear. “Come now, let’s put my little irritation with Dr. Maxwell aside.” She glanced up at him and pushed herself off his chest violently as he grinned down at her.

“You!” Caroline yelled, drawing the curious gazes of a few passerby. She glanced around and quieted her voice, though the venom in it was unmistakable. “You’re standing there grinning like this is all fun and games but I’ve got news for you buddy. This is my life, this is my mom’s life, and you do not get to come around smiling and ruining something I’ve been working on for six solid months.”

Klaus held his hands up in acquiescence. “Sweetheart.”

“Do. Not. Call. Me. That.”

“Then what? I need a name.”

“Excuse me? What makes you think I want you to call me anything?” She looked up at him and inwardly cheered at the muscle ticking in his jaw. At least she had _something_. But why was this guy so intent on her? Was he here to kill the only witness? If that was the case, why wasn’t she dead already? He was clearly faster than her, had a predatory set to his lean body that spoke of long years of a hunter’s experience.

She was suddenly exhausted, the full weight of the last ten minutes hitting her all at once. She blamed the feeling for her loose tongue as she mumbled her name almost exasperatedly, her hand flying up and sliding through the short dark hair of her still-active charm.

“Caroline.” Something in his voice stilled her. How could there be so much in three syllables? In a name drawled off of his lips? But there was, and she stopped and looked back at him in inquiry, her mouth set in a firm line.

“Caroline,” he repeated, softer, as if he knew the power of his voice wrapped around her name, “Conning Dr. Maxwell would have gotten you killed. He’s a dangerous man, love.”

“I know about the Augustine trials, if that’s what you mean.” Her voice dripped with incredulity. “Apparently you don’t know who you’re dealing with, because my plans are m e t i culous, and I don’t miss glaring details like, oh, the hidden experimental vampires in Dr. Maxwell’s creepy basement. So if that’s what you had to tell me, then you’re pretty much useless, mister.”

Klaus was caught between anger and amusement and it showed on his face. “Mikaelson.”

“What?” Caroline asked, her brows knitting.

“Oh, so your ‘meticulous’ plan didn’t cover me, I see.”

“Duh. No. Never seen you here before, but now you’re apparently stalking me.” Caroline squinted. “You're the guy I saw last night. Wait, who did you say you...?

“Mikaelson.” He held out his hand and Caroline extended her own out of habit than anything else. He brought her hand to his lips. “Klaus Mikaelson.” His eyes sparkled as her own grew large. “And I’d like to hire you."

 


	2. Chapter 2

“You can’t be serious.”

Caroline just looked back at Bonnie and the witch straightened in surprise, glancing back down to where the symbols she’d painted melded with the stone. The two girls were at Steven’s Quarry, Bonnie one of the witches tasked with preparing the site for the final harvest ritual and Caroline needing to get Klaus’ offer off her chest.

The quarry, once a source of stone and minerals in the wizard’s time, was a desolate void, a wound in the picturesque landscape of Mystic Falls, bereft of all life. It sent chills down Caroline’s spine every time she passed the boundary, trees full and lush and then...gone. Nothing. Not even a weed snaking up from the ground. No birds chirped in the trees. Light seemed to absorb in the dark rockface.

It was a void, and a reminder. Of what magic could do when left unchecked, and it was the somber side of the harvest ritual. Bonnie brushed a few more symbols across the stone ringing the pit, and Caroline let the silence lie. Normally she’d pester Bonnie, but something about this place stilled her to patience.

“Are you going to do it?”

Caroline sat on her haunches, fingers tracing the trails of dried paint. “It would be enough money for the surgery. And then some. I could pay off our house. Yours too, if you want. Send Matt's sister to rehab. So many things.” She paused, meeting Bonnie’s eyes. “He made it pretty hard to refuse.”

Bonnie bristled at this. “He threatened you?”

Caroline gave a short bark of laughter, the amusement not reaching her eyes. “No no, I just mean, it’s way more than I would have made conning Dr. Maxwell. It’s enough to fix everything and never have to grift again.”

“I don’t like it. I don’t trust him.”

Caroline was silent for a moment. “I don’t like it either, but I.. trust him on this at least. He wants something, and for whatever reason, he thinks I can help get it for him.” She looked around, the absolute stillness of the quarry a menacing weight. “Are you done yet? 'Cause i want to get out of this creepy place.”

Bonnie snorted. “That makes two of us. This place isn’t just devoid of life, it’s devoid of magic. It’s why it feels so weird. It’s a good reminder,” she trailed off, her eyes going distant then canting down in avoidance, and Caroline barely suppressed her grimace, remembering when Bonnie had gotten tangled up in dark magic a few years ago. She slung an arm around her friend, wanting her close, and Bonnie looked up, the groove between her brows easing as she smiled.

The two girls picked their way back to the car which took forever to start as they’d parked too close to the quarry. Nothing lived there for long. Caroline pulled onto the main road headed back into town as Bonnie spoke up again.

“So what exactly does he want you to do?”

“Steal something from Marcel’s tower.”

“Wait. What? Care, you’re amazing, but it’s not like you’re...Spiderman, or even a thief for that matter. I don’t get it?” Bonnie questioned, rolling down the window to let in some fresh air. The quarry clung to them like death.

“Right, I’m not a thief. But I’m a hell of a grifter,” she replied, grumbling, “when someone doesn’t interrupt my game. And I don’t think anyone could steal anything from Marcel without pulling the wool over his eyes first.” She turned her blinker on, spoke over the rhythmic click. “He wants to do it during the Harvest Gala, and I’ve already got a tentative plan - though, I mean of _course,_ there are still a few things I need to resea-”

“Care, you sound excited,” Bonnie observed.

The blonde jerked her head in surprise, glancing at her friend as the words’ impact crept across her face.

“You’re not wrong.”

* * *

  
Walking into The Abattoir was like flashing back to college. Pulsing music making conversation impossible, decor straight out of a goth’s dream, and shots served in kitschy glasses - in this case faux bloodbags. It was the tackiest thing she’d ever seen, and she let Klaus know it as she entered his back office after giving a small smile of thanks to the hybrid who’d escorted her from the door.

“People want the escape of it, love. They want to believe in the authentic vampire experience, so we serve it to them.” Klaus motioned to a table where a set of blueprints were unrolled, seeming unperturbed by her complaints. “Aside from hating our decor, I trust you are well?”

Caroline looked at him oddly. “Can we just stick to business?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Business doesn’t include calling me sweetheart.”

His face grew irritated and she held back her smile. “Fine. Caroline.” And she regretted her stance immediately, hearing that name from his lips again. It sent a shiver down her spine.

She leaned over the table and realized the blueprint was a floor plan of Marcel’s tower. “Where did you get this?”

“I drew it.”

Caroline looked up in surprise. “Seriously? Wait. You drew blueprints from what though?”

“Memory, from when I helped the wizards to design the tower.”

“Holy…” Caroline stood up straight, putting up a hand to steady her against one of the bookshelves that lined the walls. The chasm of history opened up before her and she looked at the ancient vampire, curiosity shining from her eyes. “What was it like?”

Klaus studied her, and she watched emotions flit over his face as if he were considering. His mouth set in a firm line, those full lips narrowing over a bad memory. “The wizards suffered from hubris, and paid the price.” A pause grew between them, and Caroline mentally kicked herself. They weren’t friends, what was she doing talking to him like they were? He opened his mouth, as if sensing her discomfort. “It was as beautiful as it was terrible, Caroline.” She looked up at her name, slid her hands into her pockets for something to do. “You see the remnants of magic, the bridge, the tower now, but in its heyday the magic swirled around, visible in the air. It connected everything and everyone. And the wizards used that for their own gain, until…” he trailed off, and she would have let him, but his jaw set in what she already had learned as stubborn rage. “My family killed them all. And then I killed my father.” His eyes lasered up to her own, as if goading her. “Isn’t that what you wanted to know? Because that is me, Caroline. The big bad Klaus Mikaelson, the alpha male, the hybrid king.”

She stood her ground; _god_ he was so transparent. “Do you say that to yourself every morning in the mirror like some sort of supervillain affirmation? Because I gotta say, very nice,” she said, kissing and lifting her fingers in a show of mock appeal. “Honestly? I don’t care about rumors, or your past. I care about being able to pay my mom’s medical bills, so let’s get to work huh?” She waited, shoulders tense, and relaxed when he did, both of them leaning back over the plans, a flurry of questions and answers as they debated strategies.

It was clear the night of the gala would be the prime moment to strike. Despite the increased security, the sheer number of people and the change in routine provided the best cover they could hope for. Caroline had to admit that Klaus’ planning was almost as thorough as her own, and she felt a begrudging respect begin to grow. Except for when he shot down her ideas, because she was right, damn it. Compromising the Tower’s vervain supply shouldn’t be the main plan, but it would prove useful, she was sure of it.

* * *

Caroline resettled herself on the couch where they’d been sitting together in Bonnie’s living room downtown. Tonight was the 10th day of the harvest, and the city was already starting to buckle from the protracted celebrations. Trash lined the streets and dazed partygoers still drunk from the previous evening walked past the open window. Bonnie stood up to close it, wrinkling her nose. “They need someone on piss patrol.”

Caroline choked on her drink. “Wh-what?”

“Piss patrol. Someone needs to round up all these drunk dudes peeing on the streets. Mystic Falls smells like a urinal the whole damn festival. It’s disgusting. And since when did celebrating magic become an excuse to get drunk?”

“Anytime is an excuse to get drunk, ‘specially in a college town, Bon. Look,” Caroline reached over, grabbed Bonnie’s hand in her own. ”You do not have to help me. At all, if that’s what’s bothering you. Cause you’re bothered, I can tell.”

Bonnie lifted a brow. “That obvious, huh?”

Caroline gave a half smile in response, giving her friend’s hand a squeeze.

“I don’t know Care.” Bonnie shrugged, her hair sliding down a shoulder with the movement.

“Hey,” Caroline said, her voice soft. “I never want to make you do something you don’t want to do. You’ve sacrificed so much, Bon. I can’t do that to you. I’ll ask Klaus to bring in another witch. She won’t be as good as you, bu-”

“No, that’s really not it,” Bonnie interrupted. “I know it’s a choice with you, not an expectation. And you know my boundaries and are ok with me only helping from behind the scenes. I’m just,” she sighed, looking down at their clasped hands, “this is huge, Care. You’re helping one vampire king go up against another, and I just don’t want to lose you in the process.”

“Go big or go home?” Caroline said, her shoulders raising in an exaggerated shrug in her attempt to ease the mood. Bonnie cracked a wry smile.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense for you, when I think about it,” she said, glancing up at Caroline. “I mean, you’ve got me researching magic that I’m not sure has been tried since the wizard’s ruled, and I gotta admit it’s pretty awesome.”

“I knew part of you missed having to come in and save the day with Bonnie magic,” Caroline teased.

Bonnie huffed a laugh. “Yeah. The challenge of figuring out the next spell. Keeping Elena alive at all costs.” She shook her head, “Honestly it’s a wonder we avoided the attention of Klaus and Marcel for so long with how much we fell into protecting Elena. That girl was a danger magnet, I swear.” She trailed off and her hands twisted in her lap. Caroline could sense what she wanted to say.

“I miss her too, Bon.” The witch gave a small grateful smile in response.

Sometimes, there was no better solidarity than bonding over things you didn’t want to feel but did anyway.

The ward sounded and Bonnie stood to let Josh in, crossing the braided rug with a few steps. Klaus had brought the young vampire in to cover the technical side of things - magic wasn’t going to be enough, they needed every tool in the arsenal to pull this caper off.

“Ahh! A Klaus-free planning session. Color me relieved,” Josh said, pulling up a chair to sit across from the two girls on the couch. He glanced up at Caroline. “How did you manage that, by the way? Klaus is a grade-A control freak.” His mouth shut with a click. “I - he...please tell me he’s not lurking in the other room.”

Caroline laughed, shaking her head. “You’re safe.”

“Ok, because this morning he pulled out someone’s intestines by hand because their till was off by fifty bucks.”

“God, he’s so dramatic,” Caroline replied with an eye roll. Bonnie glanced sharply at her and she belatedly realized how that might have sounded. “I mean, he’s awful, that’s a given,” she said lamely and knew Bonnie wasn’t fooled.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Josh responded, reaching towards the bowl of pretzels on the coffee table in clear inquiry. Bonnie nodded and slid the bowl closer to him with her foot. “So here’s the thing with The Tower. Marcel’s got some crazy scans at the entrances, they’re designed to detect just about everything: glamours, spells, weapons, computers. You’re not getting anything past the doors. And that goes for the employee and shipping entrances too.” He popped a few pretzels into his mouth, chewing and swallowing before he continued with an apologetic glance at Bonnie. “I know you’ve been working on a way to make spells dormant, but I’m like 95% sure the scans will detect that as well.”

“Shit.”

The room descended into silence save for the crunching of pretzels, until Josh stopped mid-chew at both of their stares. “Sorry,” he mumbled thickly through his mouthful.

“Are the scans magic?” Bonnie asked, taking a sip of a now cold mug of tea and making a face of distaste.

“Yeah, they are.”

“Then iron should block them, yeah?”

Josh shrugged but Caroline picked up the thread of Bonnie’s thought. “I don’t think we should press it too much, but yes, the Fae aren’t wrong about iron cancelling magic out.” She stood up and began pacing. “We could sneak some stuff in a catering cart. Hide some tech beneath a few iron cookie sheets!” Josh and Bonnie couldn’t help but smile at Caroline’s triumphant tone.

“Sure, I don’t think you need much from me. You’ve got most of the vault security covered, yeah?” Josh asked.

Caroline nodded sharply. “I will. So just a phone, something to figure out the vault pin in case it changes, but honestly the biggest thing is communicators so I can talk to you guys.” Neither would be at the gala, Caroline had insisted on this point with Klaus, and he’d begrudgingly agreed that the fewer people to get caught the better.

“Do you really think Marcel’s not going to notice anything’s up?” Bonnie asked, concern thick in her tone.

“Nope. I think he’s 100% going to know something’s up.” Caroline twisted in her seat, leaning over with a secretive grin. “And that’s why my plan is going to work.”

* * *

After ducking her third hybrid tail for the week, Caroline marched into The Abattoir, pissed. The bartender greeted her with a raised brow and a thumb pointing behind him towards the office when she asked, and Caroline stormed inside. She’d been trying to avoid hitting up Klaus’ headquarters as much as possible - they were both certain activities were monitored - but this tail thing had to stop.

“Can you tell her your minions to back off? I’m wasting time ditching them every morning. Seriously, Klaus, I need to get stuff done and I can’t hit my marks when I’ve got someone cramping my style.”

Klaus looked up from a sheaf of papers, his brows shooting up in amusement as the teasing smile he often adopted in her presence lit on his face. “They’re just out getting my dry cleaning, love. Anything else is coincidental.”

“Yeah right,” she drawled. “Look, I get that you’re invested in this plan working, but they’re getting in the way. Back off,” she said, fire in her eyes, irritated at her continued reaction to his physical charms. Not. Going. There.

Klaus motioned at low-slung chair nestled in the corner and she sat, watching as he moved across the room to join her. There were no windows in his office, but one of the walls was wizard glass, enchanted in times gone by to reflect the weather outside. He passed through an impossible beam of sunlight, the light catching on the planes of his face, his eyes harder than she’d expected.

“Caroline. I trust your abilities implicitly, but this cannot fail.” He ducked his head to try to meet her suddenly downturned eyes.

“Why me?” She asked. The question surprised them both. “I mean, why not your family, why not your minions, why did you pick me?”

He stared at her for a moment, long enough to make her start fidgeting in her chair, her words felt like baring her underbelly to a predator. “Caroline,” he said, the syllables distinct, “I’ve watched you con the most cynical of men out of thousands. I saw you wrap two marks around your finger, I know that you’ve been doing this for years and have never been caught.” He turned to a side table, lifting a decanter of liquor up in inquiry and pouring two glasses at her nod.

“Most of all, I know that you’re loyal, and I do not trust my family to be the same.” He turned his head, his jaw set, and she saw how much this statement cost him, how he’d let the truth of it sink into his bones. He rallied, as if remembering where he was, and narrowed his eyes at her and she almost laughed at his mercurial mood. “Besides, ask yourself, love. Do you really believe in your question, or is it just habit?”

Her heart thudded in her chest with the impact of truth delivered. Because he was right. It wasn’t how she felt, not since becoming a vampire. Not since making sure Damon Salvatore never came near her again. Not since she stopped believing Elena was better than her. Not since she realized the things others had mocked were what made her strong.

She wouldn’t underestimate Klaus again, he had an unerring way of digging to the root of her that was beyond unsettling. She avoided answering, but she could tell from his smile he’d already found one on her face. She tried to divert.

“What’s the big deal about this potion Marcel has anyway?” Klaus hadn’t been particularly forthcoming with details, but when pressed ‘I need to know the size of what I’m stealing, and to know if you could use it to kill all of Mystic Falls on an angry whim’ he’d given her that tidbit. A potion, something safe for the citizens of Mystic Falls.

He smiled as if following her train of thought. “Something that could harm myself or my family.”

“But you’re immortal, Klaus, what could harm you, really?”

He opened his mouth, closed it again, and looked at her with steady eyes. “Nothing,” he said finally, and stood to walk back to his desk, an avoidant set to his shoulders. Caroline stored it for puzzling over later, because there was something more to this he wasn’t willing to trust her to admit. She felt her earlier irritation return.

“We still haven’t solved the issue of your hybrids keeping watch. It needs to stop, Klaus. You need to trust me.” She crossed the expanse of the office, speaking to his back. He turned in a blink so suddenly that she had to restrain a flinch.

“I trust you, Caroline. It’s Marcel that I don’t trust, and I need you safe.”

“I’m safer when I’m not distracted by your minions following!” she exclaimed, exasperated, and he nodded to himself a few times.

“Well then, I’ll just have to be the one to come along.”

“What? That’s not what I’m saying, Klaus!” She did not want to spend more time than she had to around him. He was too perceptive, too close to sinking underneath her skin, and her mom and Bonnie’s warnings were still front and center in her mind.

“It’s either the hybrids or me. I trust you Caroline," he repeated. "But this is too important to not cover every angle, every facet of this plan and ensure it succeeds.” His eyes were fierce and she saw a glimmer of what he’d been trying to hide earlier. This was important to him, and now the challenge of figuring out why moved to the top of her list of things to do. Which meant…

She took a breath, exhaled. “OK.”

His head jolted back in surprise, as if expecting more of a fight. “OK?”

She nodded. “I think raiding the vervain supply will be a hell of a lot easier with two people.” She walked over to the desk, tugged a blank sheet of paper off the pad and jotted a plan. “We know the manufacturing plant is here, so see…”

* * *

  
Bonnie’s hand glided gently along an invisible path, guiding the sphere of magic in front of her. The spell’s glow guttered for a moment and her heart dropped, but the light returned, flaring brightly and then dimming slowly, the magic turning in on itself as the witch muttered her incantations. With an audible pop the spell finished, and Bonnie quickly turned her palm up to catch the small, imbued charm.

She set the charm down on the rug where she sat cross-legged, shrouded in darkness from the blackout curtains she’d pulled taut over the windows. God, she really needed to get out of the house - she’d been working on the dormant spell angle for the past two days without cease. Still, one last check. She whispered a Latin phrase and passed her hand over the charm. Nothing. Which in the case of a detect magic spell was exactly what she wanted. She smiled with satisfaction. Her friends had gotten one thing wrong - granted, she did push herself too hard sometimes, sacrificing herself again and again, but she knew it was something more than that. It was for moments like this, the magic hot in her veins, the heady feeling of success, the idea that she'd just taken the impossible and made it merely improbable. There was no sacrifice in _that._

She stood up to find her phone to tell Care and sat back down immediately, dizzy from the rush of magic. She’d been pushing it hard these past few days, but it was nothing compared to Caroline. Bonnie had never seen her friend so motivated, so determined, and she nervously kept to herself how alike her friend seemed to Klaus when their heads were bent over a set of plans, their voices a low murmur. She kept to herself how ruthless Caroline’s plan was, because it was brilliant, and it would work. She kept to herself how Klaus’ eyes tracked over Caroline with something that was eerily close to adoration.

Well, she at least didn’t talk to Caroline about it. Her and Josh had developed a rapport of eyebrow raises when the oblivious pair’s planning skirted the edges of full-on flirting.

It was weird, she thought, to reconcile a story with the actual person at hand. Because Klaus wasn’t acting quite like the monster Grams warned her about. She wasn’t fooled for a second into thinking that in any other circumstance he wouldn’t be a murderous tyrant, but now? He was driven by single-minded purpose and the implacable will of one Caroline Forbes.

Who, speak of the vampire, was sending her phone vibrating across the coffee table right now.

“Guess what, Care?” Bonnie asked after she picked up the phone, keeping her tone cool, but her friend knew her too well.

“You’re amazing Bon. And if i know you, you haven’t left your apartment in days. So now it’s your turn for guess what-” A knock sounded at the door and Bonnie laughed. “Let’s go out and celebrate!”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little trigger warning for horror here, just to be safe.

Caroline walked into the Tower’s administrative office like she owned the place. The low, slanted-roof building stood in the shadow of the Tower’s graceful lines and was home to the day-to-day activities that kept the city running. She marched into the supply office and passed her hand under the summoning ward, hearing an old fashioned bell-tinkle sound in the recesses of the office in response. A disgruntled murmur a human wouldn’t hear followed, the creak of a chair’s springs next, and a man in his early forties came up to the counter, his eyes widening slightly at Caroline’s appearance. Red lips, tweed suit and auburn power chignon. He swallowed thickly.

“Hi Jim, I’m Alana from VSM.” She waited expectantly.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“The auditor’s office? I was told the supplier codes would be here so that we can finish our review up before the gala.” Caroline gave a tight smile, speaking sotto voice, “Not that anyone asked us mind you. I’d rather be sitting home reading the latest Childs novel.”

Jim’s face brightened. “It’s amazing! I’m reading it n-” he stopped himself before admitting he was screwing off on the job, and Caroline leaned in closer, speaking conspiratorally.

“Well don’t let me stop you.” She leaned back to look at the clipboard she’d had tucked beneath an arm and then back at him. “Is it the same code as last week? We were supposed to audit then but Marcel postponed it?”

“Uh..no, they’re changed every week. Always.” His smile dropped a little.  
Shit. She knew that. Now he was suspicious. She gave a self-deprecating laugh, shaking her head.

“Of course, I was just hoping so that I wouldn’t have to keep bothering you. I’ll just take them now then. Oh! Can you give me any spoilers? Please tell me Finn’s in this book,” she steered the conversation back. _Keep the mark off guard, distracted._

His smile lifted back on his face. It was a sweet smile, and Caroline pushed down the guilt she always felt around the nice marks. He bent down, rummaging with some papers below the counter, his voice muffled as he spoke. “He just showed up! God what a great villain. You know I heard he was only supposed to be in one book but fan reaction turned him become a series regular.” His head lifted and he handed a stamped card over, magic limning the edges with a dull blue glow. “Here you go, Alana, was it?” He looked almost hopeful, and Caroline reached across the counter, letting her hand touch his as she grabbed the card.

“Pleasure speaking to you Jim. Maybe I’ll stop by when I’ve finished the novel, we can compare notes?” She turned at his pleased assent and strode out the door, her mind already on the afternoon’s job.

* * *

  
Klaus looked annoyingly attractive in a maintenance worker’s uniform, which was especially irritating when on her it was truly the most unflattering sack-like thing ever. She pushed the door of the warehouse open with a bit too much force, and the security guard looked up at the clang. She showed the pass and her ID, painting her as one Clemence Day from Fourberie Drain Services (apparently Josh couldn’t resist) and the guard waved them by as Klaus flashed his own identification. The actual drain cleaners were currently tied up in a back room in The Abattoir, their blood draining so that they could be compelled. Klaus had grudgingly agreed that killing anyone could potentially raise an alarm before they were ready to act, so compulsion was key.

The warehouse echoed with the sucking sound of the pumps as they pushed water through screens of vervain, circulating it several times until the leaves lost their color. Caroline and Klaus walked towards the main console, their shadows long in the low gleam of the emergency lights. Making vervain water took days, according to Caroline’s research, and there was always just a skeleton security guard crew here on day two - there was nothing for workers to do once the screens were in place, which made it perfect for their mission.

Still, Caroline searched the room with a note of unease, marking the doors and exits, catching Klaus doing the same. He pulled out a glass tube, dumping its contents in the first vat, hearing the dull hiss as the potion spread through the vervain molecules, rendering them inert. Caroline reached the console, plugging the device Josh had given her into the port. It gave four short clicks and the console screen fired up. It needed a few minutes to load the virus that would render testing useless. It would be all well and good if they tampered with the water and someone figured it out before delivering the supply to the Tower. Marcel had been smart to ensure that all his employees were dosed each day as part of their shift, it kept the risk under his control. They were merely taking advantage of it.

Caroline looked up, watching Klaus head to the next vat, ease and grace in his movements. He moved like the predator he was, she thought idly. A wheezing thud echoed from behind her, one of the pumps turning back on to recirculate, but the unfamiliar sound made her jump. She glanced back down at the console, the progress bar showing the load was a third of the way through, ugh. Another sound echoed from behind her, different, and she tensed, moreso when Klaus’ voice whispered lowly at her ear. She'd thought he was still at the tanks, his approach unnervingly soundless. _  
_

“Come with me, _now_.”

She followed without question as he eased them behind the slatted door closest to the console. It was a supply closet, a small one. Klaus’ arm wrapped around her waist, tugging her close, his voice barely audible.

“Veilwraith. I can’t believe Marcel has one. Quite the security detail. Do not move, and as it gets closer try to stop your breathing. It senses vibration, changes in the air.”

Caroline tensed further and Klaus tightened his grip, her body flush against his as the monster approached. She’d heard of them of course, but they were the bogeymen of Mystic Falls, lies told to keep your kids in line. She’d never imagined they were real, wizards that had fought their way back through the veil they’d created and paid the price with their bodies. She remembered the book she’d always snuck down from her dad’s bookcase so she could scare herself and her friends at slumber parties. It looked exactly as pictured and she felt bile rise in her throat.

It was at the console now, its head twisting, rotating loosely on its neck. The face barely hinted at human origins, skin pulled taut over the faint imprints of where a nose and mouth used to be, smooth, leathery skin stretched over the ears. Its skin glistened in the low emergency lights. The hands were stretched out as if tasting the air and Caroline willed her breath to stop, her heartbeat to slow. Klaus was solid granite behind her, unyielding, and she took comfort from it and from his warmth that seeped in through the paralyzing fear. Because if the pictures were right, then the stories had to be too.

The veilwraith moved erratically, sometimes gliding as graceful as a vampire, sometimes skittering ahead, and Caroline kept her body tense to not react to its shifts. As her heartbeat slowed her awareness increased, her already superhuman senses on hyperalert. The predator as prey. The creature paused, hands twisting in the air, not ten feet from the supply closet door. A moment. Two. The agony of the wait was almost unbearable, she felt her muscles crying for movement like a staring match about to break. She clung to the feeling of every line of her pressed against Klaus, a lifeline as the veilwraith passed, its feet thwacking wetly on the metal floor, and she couldn’t help the small puff of air she let out as it walked further on, out of their sight.

The faintest of whispers at her ear again, and she fought a shiver. “A door just slid open.” A pause. “Shut.” Klaus’ fingers splayed against her belly, contracted, before he let her go. She pushed back against him, not willing to leave the comfort, and his hand dusted her side almost tentatively.

“It must be a set patrol. Probably the only way they can keep it from terrorizing the staff. We need to leave now, I have no intention of squaring up against a veilwraith, nor revealing the game with its death.”

The confidence in his tone, now a rough rasp of a whisper against her ear, gave her the courage to push away, her breath coming in heaves that she quieted slowly, her body shaking.

They slid out of the closet, quickly finishing the sabotage, Josh’s virus securely loaded in the testing protocol. Once they were outside having given the security guard a shaky goodbye nod - did he even know? - Caroline spoke, her voice shaking.

“I never want to see anything like that again.”

“You don’t have to, love. Marcel can’t keep it around the gala, it wouldn’t be able to stand the noise and would be uncontrollable. Not sure how he’s keeping it under leash here, truth be told.”

“Thank you.” The words slipped out, and she blamed her admission on the shock and declined to elaborate despite Klaus’ quizzical glance. She hoped he’d think her thanks were merely a response to his words. She turned away, briskly walking to the fake company van Josh had gleefully stenciled the logo on. Something had shifted, back there in the closet with her heart in her throat and his presence a comfort, but she sure as hell didn’t want him to know about it.

The drive to the junkyard where they’d planned to trash the vehicle was filled with a silence of the weighted kind. Caroline looked anywhere but at Klaus, trying to sort out her thoughts and his white-knuckled grip on the wheel the only thing betraying his reaction. A few times, she caught him out of the corner of her eye opening his mouth to break the pall of silence, but each time he stopped. They crossed the wards of the junkyard’s perimeter and Caroline itched with the need to get out of the van.

His voice stopped her before she got one leg out.

“What Marcel has - “ Klaus cleared his throat and Caroline marveled at his awkwardness. He was _nervous_ , and the idea that the commanding presence that was Klaus Mikaelson could be nervous talking to her bubbled up inside her, a gift. He started again, changing tack.“My mother made us into what we are to protect us, but also as an attempt to stop the wizard’s reign.” He stared unwaveringly through the windshield, his hand draped across the wheel, the low-dipping sun lancing an arc of light across his knuckles. “By the time the wizards realized our power, realized the threat we would be, it was mostly too late for them.”

“Mostly?”

He glanced at her but his gaze wasn’t the focused stare she’d gotten used to from him. “Kol - one of my brothers,” he elaborated, “was the first to find Silas’ journals.” He paused, and his eyes came back to the present, locking on her own, and she shifted in her seat but kept his stare.

He nodded slowly, his eyes closing for a few seconds, lashes thick against his cheek. She saw the decision in his eyes when he opened them.

“What Marcel has is the cure for vampirism, developed by Silas to remove our powers. With it, Marcel can render me as helpless as a human.” He cleared his throat again. “So what I’m saying, love, is that-”

“-this heist is as important for you as it is for me,” she finished, her words soft, letting her words gather before she spoke again. “Moreso, to be honest. I can’t believe I’m saying thank you twice in one day to the ‘hybrid king’,” she curled her hands in quotes, “which by the way is the lamest name ever and you need like some villainous PR firm to help you with your image, maybe a logo, but…thanks. It helps. To know,” she finished with a wave of her hand, at a strange loss for words. It wasn’t really about the trust he’d shown, but all the same it was a bit of his past, something important to him, and to ignore that wasn’t something she could manage.

The sun winked out on the horizon as if to seal the conversation, and both of them broke from the daze of those who’ve lost track of time. Klaus picked up his phone and dialed a number, lowly issuing orders in a venomous tone, and Caroline headed home with thoughts of wizards and original vampires, of the notion that someone could seep into your life one moment at a time.

* * *

  
The problem, Caroline had realized early on, was going to be telling her mom. She’d already tried to convince herself that lying and saying she’d won the lottery was not going to cut it. She spent her days lying to marks, she couldn’t lie to the people she cared about. Having already blatantly fibbed to her mom once about her job was enough, and frankly that was making this whole admission thing worse.

She straightened the silverware for the fifth time and got up and stirred the pasta. If she was going to admit some things, buttering her mom up with spaghetti carbonara first would ease the blow, right? The front door shut closed, Caroline so distracted by her anxiety she hadn’t even heard her mom’s entrance.

“Care? What smells so delicious?” Mrs. Forbes rounded the corner, giving Caroline an absentminded peck on the cheek before she lifted the lid on the pot bubbling on the stove. She turned back with a shrewd look. “Caroline Forbes. The only time you cook for me is when you want something. What’s this about?”

“I’m offended mom, can’t a daughter cook her mom a nice dinner without suspicion?”

“Not if she’s you.” Liz laughed at her daughter’s affronted expression. “You show me love in other ways, Caroline. You’re a wonderful daughter,” she appeased, patting Caroline on the shoulder. “Now what do you want?”

Caroline twisted her fingers together nervously. “Well, it’s not what I want, but more like,” she grimaced, “what I did?”

Liz sat down heavily at the kitchen table, her injured leg sticking straight out. She’d claimed the pain wasn’t as bad when she did that, but Caroline could still see it behind her eyes. The thought strengthened her.

“Mom, I’ve found a way to pay for the spellsurgery.”

“What? How?” Liz’s expression darkened. “Don’t tell me you cashed in the bond Grandma Forbes left you. But that wouldn’t be enough anyway...” Liz set her empty fork down and leveled her gaze at her daughter, waiting for an answer.

“So, you know…” Caroline stopped, unable to continue. God this sucked. She got up, taking the pasta off the burner and piling a hefty amount on her mom’s plate.

“Caroline. You’re freaking me out now.”

Caroline gave a weak laugh. “I’m not so sure if what I have to say will make that better or worse.” She drew in a deep breath, breathed out in a shaky exhale. “OK. Look, the truth is mom, I’m...I’m not a vervain water salesperson. I’m a grifter. Like dad.” She hid her head in her hands, peeked through her fingers when the silence drew out. Her mom was staring at her with an expression that confused her. She closed her fingers.

“Mom? This is getting a bit awkward. If you’re thinking of killing me now, just remember that I cooked you delicious pasta and I always clean my room.” She lowered her hands and looked pleadingly at her mom.

“I’m a cop, Caroline. Did you really think I didn’t know? I’m almost insulted.”

“Seriously? Why didn’t you just tell me then?”

“It’s not like I support it Caroline.” Liz twirled some pasta around her fork, frowning, the lines set around her mouth exaggerated by the expression. “God damn it, I yelled and pleaded with Bill every time he took you out to ‘teach you the tricks of the trade’. I hate it, I hate that you have to do it because the council is too busy stuffing its pockets, I hate that I can’t do what I want and ground you for a thousand years.” She set her fork down, letting out her breath in an exasperated huff. “But that still doesn’t answer the question. I know what kind of small-change games Bill played, and they'd never earn enough for spellsurgery. What’s going on?”

  
After that outburst, Caroline wasn’t exactly feeling great about revealing the next part. “You know, maybe we can talk about this next week? Or when you’re under the knife?” She held up her hands in questioned offering, brows raised.

“I didn’t raise my daughter to avoid facing things head on, now did I?”

* * *

  
Caroline’s smile was bright as the door swung open. “Hi! I’m Cassie from ArrangeYourLife!” she chirped, grabbing the man’s hand and pumping it in a firm handshake. “You must be Tom! So happy to meet you!!! I’m excited to help you start on your closet wellness journey!” Tom recovered from the onslaught quickly, hiding a sneer of disdain behind well-schooled features. Caroline hid her own disgust. This guy was pure upper-crust douche, but he was the key to getting into Marcel’s vault.

Tom held the door open and ushered them in with a genteel half-bow. “A pleasure. Your services came quite highly recommended. And this is?”

“Benjamin Rook. Cassie’s assistant.” Caroline marveled at the subservience in his tone. He was certainly letting her take the lead on this, and something about it was strangely thrilling.

“Benjamin helps me with the labor and has a real eye for color,” Caroline exclaimed, clutching at Klaus’ arm. “Don’t know what I’d do without him!”

Tom rubbed at the space between his brows and Caroline gave an inward cheer and resolved to keep up the bright cheery attitude. It clearly was distracting Mr. Avery, and a distracted mark is an easy mark.

“So! Let’s get that closet cleaned!!! I have all your speccies from the webform and our emails.”

Tom sniffed. “Speccies? Oh, specifications.” The disgust dripped from his words and Caroline wasn’t sure if she was going to make it out of this house without laughing. Klaus coughed behind her. “Yes, you were quite...thorough, so I’ll just...let you get to it. The closet is in the master bedroom.” He led them upstairs, ushering them into a bedroom dominated by dark furniture and heavy drapes.

“I’ll just leave you to it. I’ll be in my office just down the hall.” He reached out and put a hand on Klaus’ arm, stilling the hybrid’s movement. “Be careful with the Ausers, will you? They cost more than you make in a year.”

Klaus broke at that, twisting the man’s grip in his hand and pulling him towards the office as he spoke. “I ate the scion of the Auser family when he flubbed the cuff on one of my handmade suits and this insolent middle manager has the audac-”

“SHHhhh,” Caroline hushed, “I don’t need to hear about your pompous dietary habits right now, we need information!” She wound the ropes tight around their captive, securing him to the office chair. She bent down, putting herself at eye level with a somehow still disdainful Tom, her pupils dilating as she uttered her compulsion. “You’ll answer all of our questions truthfully.”

“I’m on verva-” Tom’s face twisted, shock appearing just before the film of compulsion slid across his features. “I’ll answer all of your questions truthfully.”

Klaus and Caroline looked at each other with satisfied grins.

“What is the code to Marcel’s safe?”  
“What’s the security like?”  
“What protects the vault?”

They assaulted Tom with questions, and he answered, though Caroline could tell he was trying to fight the compulsion and her estimation of him rose. They’d needed someone who was mid-way up the totem pole, someone with security clearance and an understanding of the inner workings, but someone whose presence wouldn’t be too missed in case things went awry.  
Tom had been - was - perfect. Especially when he was not only confirming their existing intel, but adding to it. And then, the coup de grace, as Caroline held up her phone to get a good recording.

“Say the vault passcode.”

An angry glare, sweat dripping down Tom’s temples. “D-davina.” Klaus’ brows shot up at this, and Caroline made a mental note to ask later. For now, they had what they needed. She knelt down, face close to Tom, to utter the final instructions. She’d argued with Klaus about this part, insisted compulsion was better than death. She’d won, she thought smugly, and her distraction cost her, Tom snapping his ropes and lunging at her, biting into her flesh with blunt human teeth.

She shoved him back with vampiric strength, plaster raining down from the impact as he slammed against the wall. Klaus stared at her almost accusingly, and what was up with _that_ , before kneeling down and murmuring lowly to Tom, putting his own compulsion. She touched her hand to her neck, surprised by the wet slick of blood. Her fangs descended at the scent, her thoughts swirling and trying to puzzle out the scene. What did Tom think he could accomplish? She couldn’t think through the dull thud of her neck, tender to the touch- oh.

“But he was unregistered!” she exclaimed.

Klaus response was angry and she reeled from the violence of it. “And you relied on a supernatural census instead of your senses?” He was in her space now, lifting aside her hair and staring at the wound. “No matter the hours of study, you have to rely on your instincts. How could you be so -” Caroline could tell he was struggling with the next word and bristled in anticipation, ready for a fight. “-careless.”

She was shocked by his vehemence into an apology she didn’t quite feel. “I - I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Is he - “

“Yes, he’s fully compelled into submission now. Which should have happened the first time.”

She rankled at that. “Maybe you should have considered your offer more carefully if I’m so incompetent.” Her pulse throbbed in her neck, a reminder. “Oh god, what do I do? What do I tell my mom?” She looked up, her eyes shining with panic and regret. “Will you still help her? Please, Klaus?”

His face softened and he touched her cheek, a quick ghost of a caress that sent an unbidden thrill down her spine despite the werewolf poison. “Do you know what I am, Caroline?”

“An insufferable jerk?” Klaus smiled despite the lack of heat in her response. Or maybe because of it.

“Try again, love. I’m a hybrid. A werewolf and a vampire. And -” he paused, his fangs snicking down - and up - from inside his mouth, “my blood is the cure to werewolf poison.”

Caroline wasn’t sure if this was a dream or not, but it seemed awfully convenient.

Klaus laughed, apparently she’d said that out loud. “I suppose so, love. Here, drink.” He turned her, sliding his arms around her and holding up his dripping wrist, the blood welling dark against his pale skin. The scent was heady, though Caroline blamed it on her swiftly-building delirium. When her lips latched around the wound his arm tightened around her, her body flush against his chest, and a small puff of his breath hit her ear, as if he’d exhaled in surprise. She pulled deep, her fangs dropping to keep the wound open, the blood filling her mouth slick on her teeth, sliding across her tongue.

Tom’s apartment receded in her vision, as if allowing her a private moment. It was just her and the pleasure of the blood hissing in her veins, coursing down her throat, and the rumble of Klaus’ chest as he murmured something incoherent into her hair. A thought grew in her mind, something she wasn’t sure she wanted to explore, but the soft touch of his hands in her hair made it impossible to ignore. He’d been so angry with her, for getting bitten, but why? Investment in the plan?

She was starting to think it was more, and beyond that, that she hoped it was.


	4. Chapter 4

Caroline showed her stolen credentials at the employee gate, the cart behind her laden with baked goods she’d bought off of Matt’s daily delivery at The Grill. She felt calm, as she always did when she was playing the game. She freaked out over the planning, let anxiety keep her up at night as she imagined everything playing out, but when she was in the moment? It was like ice ran through her veins.

The guard waved her through and began checking out the cart, licking his lips at the pastries on display.

She teased him with an “I can hear your stomach grumbling from here” and he smiled shyly at her, the grin softening the hard features of his face. She looked exaggeratedly both ways before sliding him a cherry danish across the top of the cart and he laughed as she moved on, tugging the baked goods behind her.

Distraction wins again, she thought, the iron baking sheets inside the cart resting atop a few things that most decidedly wouldn’t have made it through a full search. She pulled the cart into a hallway idle with disuse and slid the communicator in her ear.

“I’m in.”

“Caroline, we agreed.” Josh’s voice was almost a whine in her ear.

She shook her head, laughing. “My bad.” She deepened her voice and whispered, “The eagle lands at dawn.”

“Thank you, so much, for realizing a life’s dream.”

“Totally here for you. But that’s it.”

Klaus’ voice sounded droll in her ear. “I’m glad we’re past that. I’m approaching the entrance.”

“Has Marcel spotted you yet?”

“You can be sure of it,” Klaus replied. “There’s cameras everywhere, both tech and spell. He’s not leaving anything up to chance.” A note of pride entered his voice. “I taught him well, after all.”

“OK, well I need to stop talking to myself in the hallway and get ready. See you upstairs.”

Caroline pulled out the gown Klaus had gifted her despite her protests. “You need to dress the part, love. It is a gala after all.” She had to admit it was beautiful, the blue tulle swirling out from the waist like a gown made for a ballerina. She changed in the washroom, swirling her hair up into a loose chignon and letting a few curls free to frame her face. She stared in the mirror for a moment more than she actually had, finally nodding firmly at her own reflection before heading back to the cart and slipping the phone and Bonnie’s small charms into her bag.

The ballroom upstairs was a marvel, witchlights magicked in golden and copper hues, charmed to flicker softly like candles in the dim light - some so tiny as to resemble stars in the night sky of the floor’s vaulted ceiling. A balcony circled the ballroom, french doors opened wide, and despite the early hour Caroline could hear a cacophony of voices from outside, a thundering of heartbeats from all around. She clutched her purse and glanced at her surroundings, noting the exits and the guards, the tense set of their shoulders giving them away.

She spotted Klaus out of the corner of her eye and turned towards him. He was perfect in his tuxedo, and he was staring at her, lips parted, the heat in his expression almost wrecking her composure. He turned away with visible effort and she willed her heart to slow. The smallest moments are sometimes one’s undoing, and she thought this might be hers.

A voice at her elbow was a welcome distraction and she turned at her name.

“Caroline Forbes. Of all the peop- what are you doing here?” The young, dark-haired man said with a strange mix of suspicion and warmth.

“Tyler! You look great. Wow, it’s really good to see you!” Part of her wasn’t lying. He’d filled out over the past year since they’d broken up, and she could see the bulk of solid muscle that lay beneath the tailored suit. She willed herself from comparing Tyler to Klaus’ lean form.

“I haven’t seen you since -” Tyler waved his arm awkwardly. The breakup had been his choice - well, with his mom’s _full_ support - but Caroline found she no longer held a grudge. Tyler had been her first love. “How’s your mom?” he asked. There was an unspoken question there, and Caroline knew it. He’d never approved of her grifting.

“Still -” she motioned at her leg with a pained expression.

“And are you...still...?” He trailed off.

God, this was the most stilted conversation she’d had in ages. It would make her sad if she wasn’t here to do a job. “Tyler, don’t.”

“Care, look, what are you doing here, really?” He looked pained. “Because if you’re trying to pull one over on our guests…”

“Oh screw you,” she replied, whipping her skirt around in a furious turn, ignoring the half-hearted apology, only glancing back to catch Tyler turning away and heading up the stairs. She saw his uncertain worry as he tapped on a vampire’s shoulder and leaned over to speak close. She threw a panicked expression on her face as the dark-skinned vampire turned to watch her, his eyes glittering in a way she knew meant trouble.

The plan was coming along nicely, if she said so herself.

* * *

  
Klaus strode into the ballroom just as the gala was getting into full swing. A pity that he could not share a dance with Caroline, he thought. The dress fit her perfectly, accentuating her regal carriage, that graceful neck he itched to capture on canvas. He spotted her out of the corner of his eye, near one of the buffet tables, talking to a clearly besotted idiot dressed in reenactment wizard robes. Klaus held back a sneer.

He glanced up and saw Marcel watching him, turned his gaze away idly from Caroline. Time to focus on the game and serve as the perfect distraction. He smiled cheekily at Marcel, raising a glass in toast, and turned his back.

He didn’t have to wait long, knew his protege wouldn’t be able to resist the chance to try to figure out his motives while delivering some barbed comments meant to rile him up. Certainly, on another day Marcel might succeed, but today Klaus was as laser-focused as he knew Caroline to be. They were much the same, and the amount of times he thought that was both alarming and comforting in the oddest of ways.

“Klaus.”

“Marcellus.” They sized each other up, Marcel giving an easy smile, teeth gleaming amidst the low light of the ballroom.

The younger vampire opened his arms wide, as if to show the room off. “So what do you think?”

“I think the wizard robes are horribly gauche, if I’m being honest.”

“You never really understood playing the crowd, Klaus.” Marcel turned to point at one of the party-goers cloaked in the long robes. “It connects people. Gives them a sense of control over the past. And - “ he raised his drink, the dark liquid swirling with an amber glow - he’d even magicked the alcohol - “sales have been incredibly lucrative.”

“Ah yes, more money to bribe others into liking you,” Klaus responded, his eyes on the wizard.

“You’re one to talk. Oh, I guess the difference is you threaten others into fearing you. And how’s that working for you?”

Klaus ground his teeth, his irritation real despite his intentions. Marcel was too casual with him, he clearly felt he had the upper hand and it rankled. His mind flashed to Caroline again and he felt the smile creep back on his face. In this town of thousands he’d found the one person alongside him who was brilliant enough to plan a caper like this. He couldn’t wait to see Marcel's face when he realized.

The smile threw Marcel off, he could tell, so he let it grow on his face to unnerve Marcel further. He only had to give her a few minutes more, might as well make it entertaining.

* * *

  
She really needed to have a talk with Klaus after this. The dungeon he’d so extolled the virtues of was creepy as hell. Not veilwrath creepy, she shuddered in remembrance, but creepy nonetheless despite Marcel’s attempts at re-purposing the space. Dark red witchlights lined the hall, illuminating the waist-high railing lining the walls that appeared to be made from human bone. The floors were dark and lustrous, granite she thought, and they reflected the lights so that the halls seemed lined in blood. One of Bonnie’s charms sat in the hollow of her throat, awakened from dormancy with a few words, rendering Caroline’s footsteps silent despite the hard floor and her heels.

She moved like a spectre through the halls, ducking into the side passages to avoid the regular patrols. It was one of the negatives to infiltrating the tower on gala night - guards were double if not triple the norm. That’s where spells came in handy, she thought, watching a guard walk a foot in front of her, her back against the rusted iron of a centuries-old cell. It was a ridiculous thought, considering, but she still spared a moment of mourning for her dress.

She slipped her earpiece back in her ear as she reached the end of the hall, two guards standing watch, their eyes passing right through her. It was easy work to break the first one’s neck, but it made her visible, so she had to act fast. Running up the side of the wall, she kicked off of it with her back leg, using the momentum to launch herself across the hall and latching her arm around the neck of the guard who had his mouth open to scream.

He let out a choked sigh instead just before she snapped his neck too, gently lowering the body to the floor. She had four minutes until the next patrol. Thank goodness Klaus had made the dungeon big enough to hold such a maze of cells. Did….did she really just have that thought? She pulled out the phone from her clutch as she studied the keypad on the door. Her vision spotted the wear on the pads, confirming the code she’d coerced earlier today out of a disgruntled tech specialist in Marcel’s employ. God, that girl had been annoying.

Her fingers flew across the keypad, one light flashing green on the lock panel of the door, and she played Tom’s voice code next, hearing the low click of the second lock. She went to tug the door open, stopping just as she noticed one red light still holding fast. What the hell? This wasn’t in the plans. She looked behind her, willing the spike of panic down. She still had three minutes. She’d be fine, just needed to figure out what was going on. She scanned the door, eyes tracking across the lintel back down to the handle, and her heart almost stopped. A second panel, eye level.

A retina scanner.

 _Shit shit shit shit shit._ She couldn’t believe they’d missed it in the schematics, but honestly it looked to be a new addition, the panel jutting out from the wall instead of flush like the keypad. Her hands fluttered wildly as she spun around and knelt by one of the guards, turning her face away and closing her eyes as she curled her fingers into an eye and pulled. It popped out with an obscene noise and she shook her head, hard, standing up and running to the scanner, praying to whomever would listen, her arm reaching out with the guard’s eye clutched in her hand -

Another hand wrapping firmly at her wrist stilled her movements. She grabbed at the hand and spun quickly, thankful again for that martial arts class Elena had forced her to take back in high school. She pulled the arm over her shoulder and tugged down. With her vampire strength, it should have been enough to break an arm. It wasn’t, her assailant pulling out of the grip just in time, wrapping arms around her from behind, his mouth at her ear whispering furiously.

“Shhh It’s ok, it’s me.”

She resisted the urge to scream with the greatest showing of willpower she’d ever managed in her life. “I’m going to kill you when we get out of here.”

He spun her to face him, reached into his suit pocket, and pulled out an eyeball still trailing ocular tissue. “No, you’re not. The guard’s eye wouldn’t have worked. Marcel wouldn’t ever trust someone to guard that could get in to the vault. But this one,” he flourished the eye like a trophy, “is Tom Avery’s.”

* * *

  
“It’s not here,” Caroline said, disappointed though she'd known the vault was a longshot.

“We had to check, love,” Klaus said, and she wondered at the comfort of it, at him saying those words with that intent. Paired with his apologetic look in the ruddy light of the vault, she felt her confused heart jump.

“We’ve got to go. One minute until the next patrol, and then they’ll find the bodies-

“Giving just the distraction we need,’ Caroline finished with a smile, tossing Klaus an extra charm and whispering the latin phrase into her own. She lost Klaus in the dimmed blood-red of the dungeon’s light, but felt his presence at her side as they raced back to the ground floor and merged into the crowd, Klaus plucking two champagne flutes off the nearest tray and offering her one with a flourish. She couldn’t keep the laugh back, the adrenaline coursing through her veins, Klaus’ expression was so....pleased with himself, like he’d just won a prize. She wondered when he'd gone back to Tom's house, how he even _knew_ , and most of all, why she hadn't thought about it herself.

A voice at her ear, crackling. “HellOOO? if you’ve got time to laugh, you’ve got time to report. What is going on???” Josh’s anxiety was palpable, and she felt bad for honestly forgetting both him and Bonnie in the moment.

“The eagle has landed?” Caroline responded questioningly. “Well, actually,the eagle flew around the nest and then realized it was the wrong one.”

Josh huffed a laugh. “I’m _so_ glad we met.”

“What are you guys even talking about?” Bonnie asked.

“We’ve got to do it the hard way,” Caroline summed up, distracted as Klaus hand touched the small of her back before he pulled away. His eyes were fierce as he faded back into the crowd, and Caroline found herself watching until he did.

She sipped her champagne, feeling the bubbles tickle her throat. Her eyes tracked the guards as she headed back towards the ballroom, watching the wave of alarm hit them as they held fingers to earpieces, listening intently to reports. Guards began peeling off from the crowds, heading towards the dungeon casually enough to not cause a scene, but noticeable if you were watching. Which she was. She stepped into the ballroom to see Marcel speaking urgently to Tyler and a bruiser of a guard, his suit tight across huge shoulders. Werewolf, she thought idly, setting down her still-full glass on a nearby table and smiling at a guy seated there. She could use the cover of a dance, and of course he asked, almost tripping over his wizard robes in his haste. God, those things were hideous, she thought.

The turns of the formal dance gave her a great vantage to what was going on, her eyes continuing to watch the reactions of the staff to the clearly alarming occurrence of two dead guards and a breached vault below. By now Klaus would be upstairs, heading towards Marcel’s quarters. Tyler hadn’t left Marcel’s side, and she caught the suspicious looks he kept shooting her. She’d almost be offended if he wasn’t right.

“Excuse me, miss.” The huge werewolf guard broke into her dance, her partner’s eyes widening and letting her go without complaint when he caught a glimpse of their interruption. “Marcel would like to speak with you.”

Her heart raced, that same rush as the thrill of the hunt that she still guiltily remembered from her first night as a vampire. She smiled her best festival queen smile and the werewolf grinned a gap-toothed one of his own, taking her hand in the clutch of his arm in a gallant gesture that made Caroline giggle.

Marcel watched as she approached, and she saw that same calculation she’d seen on Klaus when she first met him, assessing the threat, taking her measure. Tyler looked at her with a disbelieving gaze, his brow furrowed.

“Miss Caroline Forbes,” Marcel greeted her. He had one of those smiles that shone over his whole face, and Caroline steeled herself against the charm of it. “Won’t you come this way, would like to talk to you in private, if you don’t mind.” He turned before she answered and she followed, the guard leading her now with an arm hovering behind her, his palm not quite touching her back. She gave silent thanks for giant werewolves with manners.

The noise of the gala receded behind them as they headed through a staff-only door, Tyler giving her a searching look just on the edge of apologetic, staying on the other side as the door clanged shut. A magic-powered elevator hovered in the small vestibule and Marcel motioned her in.

“Are...are we headed up to your office?” She asked nervously, more to alert Klaus and let Bonnie and Josh know where she was than out of any real fear.

Marcel smiled wryly at her but changed the subject instead of answering. “Enjoying the party?”

“It’s lovely,” she replied. Really? Did she really need to have small talk on an elevator with the man she was trying to steal the only thing in the world that could stop an immortal? She couldn’t keep the incredulous laughter in, used it to color her next words with a smile. “The fountain is easily the best part. You must have paid a lot of money for that witchwork.” The entrance hall held a giant fountain, ensorcelled so the water appeared as gently falling leaves. Even amidst the thrill of the game she'd paused at the majesty of it.

Marcel smiled at the praise as the elevator coasted to a stop, motioning for her to exit, and they walked through a series of halls with progressively tighter security. She felt a frisson of doubt that Klaus could have made it up here and past all these guards, but quelled it. Not only was he _Klaus_ but he had Bonnie’s magic to aid him. This would be so much easier if he’d just find the cure on his own and escape, but she guessed it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“Have a seat,” Marcel said casually, and she realized this bullshit small talk was designed to unnerve her, draw out the fear a bit. This must be a tactic he’d come up with on his own, as it totally wasn’t Klaus’ style.

“Can I ask why I’m here?” She said, trying to push through the bs.

“I’d like you to tell me about the two dead guards stationed in front of my vault.” He said it almost cheerily, settling into a dark leather couch and crossing a foot over his knee. Gap-toothed werewolf stood next to the couch, his hands crossed in front of his chest and muscles straining at his suit’s seams. She looked around, buying time and taking in her surroundings. There were around ten other vampires here, all of them staring at her with idle interest. It looked to be a break room rather than Marcel’s office, a bumper pool table sat in the corner, cues made out of formed magic resting up against the wall, glowing softly. A small kitchenette where a witch was rummaging through the refrigerator took up another corner, the rest of the walls floor-to-ceiling windows. Mystic Falls shined below them, the bridge arching tall to east. She picked out Fell’s Church by the glimmering of magic at the old wizard’s house and wondered if her mom was ok.

Marcel seemed to be content with her delay in response, motioning to one of the vampires who poured him a glass of something dark and strong. Caroline wasn’t up on her liquors. She debated lying, decided it would just slow things down.

“Oh that was me.”

Marcel’s smile burst across his face, amused by the unexpected admission. “A girl who owns it, I like it.” He shifted in his chair, studying her over the rim of his glass. “Tyler said you’re a con artist. So what’s the con?”

“That’s like a magician revealing her secrets,” she scoffed.

Marcel set his tumbler down with a click on the glass-topped coffee table and spread his hands. “Look, you seem like a smart girl, so let me spell it out for you. I’d much rather be downstairs enjoying my gala -”

“It’s not yours, it’s the city’s,” she couldn’t help but retort.

He rolled his eyes and she clenched her jaw to keep from punching him. “Enjoying my gala,” he repeated, “than stretching this out any more. Here. I’ll help. I know Klaus hired you.” Caroline’s eyes widened the slightest bit in alarm. They’d been careful, but it wasn’t a complete surprise. “And I assume he’s after this.” Marcel pulled out a small vial from beneath his shirt. It hung from a leather thong strung around his neck, the leather threaded through holes in the top of the sealed vial.

It looked so tiny, this thing that could end immortal lives.

Marcel saw the thought on her face and smiled, letting the vial drop back to his chest. “A bit too valuable to keep in the vault, Miss Forbes. So, here’s what I’m thinking.” He uncrossed his leg, leaning forward so that his reflection shone in the glass of the coffee table. “Klaus only works with the best, so that makes you the best.”

She tried but failed to keep the pleased smile off her face. She _was_ pretty damn good, if she was being honest.

“So how much it would take for you to come work for me, instead?”

Caroline shook her head. “I won’t be a bid in a pissing contest between you two. If you want to punish me, that’s fine, but I’m not switching sides. Klaus has earned my loyalty.”

Marcel’s eyes widened at that, his head jerking back in surprise. “Wait a second. Do you actually like working for Klaus? Wait a second….” He launched up from the chair and pulled open a drawer, the sound of metal clattering as he pawed through the contents. “Knew I still had it.” He held what looked like a cross between a fireplace lighter and a wand in his hand and scanned it over her. She felt the sharp tingle of magic and hoped it wouldn’t interfere with Bonnie’s charm.

“Hmm, no compulsion.” He sat back down, magic device tossed aside and his attention firmly on her. “So you are loyal to Klaus, huh. You know what, I bet he likes you back.”

“I didn’t say anything about liking Klaus,” she defended lamely, but her heart wasn’t in something she didn’t believe, and she was confused by the almost juvenile turn in the conversation. Perhaps they'd discuss cooties next. She wondered where Klaus actually was, wondered if he’d realized the cure was on Marcel and not hidden away somewhere.

“Well, either way, don’t say I didn’t ask you nicely first.” He pulled out his phone, his fingers speeding over the touchscreen as he sent a text. The door she’d noticed next to the pool table slid open and a reluctant Tyler walked in, his hand firm at the elbow of one Elizabeth Forbes.

She thought Tyler might have mouthed an “I’m sorry Care” but she was too busy staring at her mom, trying to communicate wordlessly. She turned back to Marcel, daggers in her eyes.

“So if someone doesn’t agree with you, you resort to kidnapping their mother? How is this an effective bargaining technique?”

“I’ve been pretty relaxed about you snapping the necks of two of my men, Caroline,” Marcel said. Caroline caught her mom’s flinch out of the corner of her eye at his words. “So quit with the attitude. I’m offering you a business proposition, and Sheriff Forbes is just here to ensure you make an informed decision.”

“How thoughtful of you,” Klaus’ voice sounded in the room and Caroline almost clapped her hands in glee as Marcel launched himself backwards off the couch, crouching in a defensive posture and whirling his head around trying to spot the intruder. Still, this wasn’t in the plan, so the other half of her wanted to stab Klaus with one of her heels.

Klaus appeared out of thin air, Bonnie’s charm bright in the palm of his hand before he slipped it into his pocket, and two of the guards launched themselves at him. In the span of a breath he held both of their hearts in his dripping hands and the assailants dropped, their bodies appearing almost dejected as they sagged inward and fell. Caroline looked over at the sound of her mom’s shaky breath.

 _This_ Klaus was the one her mom had warned her about. She found she wasn't much concerned.

Marcel waved an arm back, holding off anyone else approaching Klaus. From the kitchenette came the sound of chanting and Klaus squeezed his eyes shut, knees buckling briefly. Served him right for messing with the plan, Caroline thought.

“How’d you sneak magic in here?” He asked, and Klaus’ eyes darted to Caroline. That tiny admission was enough for Marcel to regain confidence. “She’s quite something. Can’t believe she’s escaped my attention this long. You know what I find interesting though?” Marcel asked, walking past the couch with a casual swagger, grabbing Liz by the nape of her neck. Her mom winced and Caroline saw red.

“Pray tell,” Klaus responded through gritted teeth.

“That the man who told me that feelings were what made vampires weak is standing here in my tower trying to rescue his girl.”

“She’s not ‘my girl’,” Klaus said. “She’s a valuable employee.”

“Ah then, so you don’t care about her, right? Don't care about how she’d feel if I killed her mom right here?” Marcel led with his questions, giving an almost sad wave of apology at the sheriff as if rueing the need to involve her in such sordid plans.

Caroline thought her heart might explode, but she held on to her dad’s voice in her head. _Always make them think they’ve pulled one over on you. The confidence is what lets you continue the game._

She paused for the briefest of seconds, closing her eyes and muttering “Thanks Dad” under her breath, and nodded at her mom.

Liz Forbes smiled almost beatifically and said a single word. Bonnie’s spell, hidden behind Liz’s injury’s dark magic, surged from her, a bright flash of light that Klaus and Caroline both blocked with the secondary magic lingering in Bonnie’s charms. The air crackled, and Caroline felt the heat of it surge around her like the blast from an explosion.

A witch and ten vampires, including Marcel, dropped to meet the two bodies on the floor, Klaus moving before the phosphor spell even began to dim, standing now over Marcel. He snapped the vial's cord from Marcel's neck, gazing down at his once-protege. Caroline knew what he was thinking.

“Do you have to kill him?” she asked softly, and he turned to her, his eyes losing some of the wildness in them as he looked at her.

“No, love. I don’t. But what I _do_ have to do,” Klaus hauled Marcel up, watching as his eyes began to focus anew, his own dilating as Marcel’s sight returned. “Is compel Marcel to never come after you or your mother again.”

Caroline swallowed over the sudden lump in her throat, deflecting. “See, I told you tampering with the vervain supply was a good idea!”

Klaus smiled, and even Caroline couldn’t ignore the adoration in his gaze or in his tone as he replied. “Of course it was, love.”


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is way shorter than it should be, and I'm sorry.

The next evening Caroline was still coming off of her high, though her mom had extracted a very firm promise to never do anything like that again.

It was a good thing she wouldn’t need to, but part of her knew even now she’d crave the satisfaction of a well-executed plan sooner rather than later. She smiled at the memory of Marcel’s face when he’d been so utterly _certain_ he’d won.

In the early stages of planning, both her and Klaus had realized that they needed to keep the other vampire feeling like he had control of the situation. It was the only way they’d succeed, but that didn’t mean putting her mom in danger hadn’t come with some sleepless nights. Given enough time, she supposed they’d have come up with a different plan, but part of her loved that her mom had been involved, because she knew it made her mom feel a part of her own recovery.

And with that thought, Caroline circled a date in the calendar hanging next to the coat rack. They’d called for a surgery appointment first thing that morning, and Caroline thought she might go insane waiting for the next week to crawl by.

A knock at the door, and Caroline shouted for Bonnie to come in. She had texted earlier, intent on hearing all the details.

“I can’t, love,” Klaus’ voice called out, amused, and her heart spun in her chest. She stepped out on the porch, her eyes bright as she studied him. She gestured towards the porch swing and sat down, though he remained standing. The sound of the late-summer cicadas was almost deafening, and she hoped it hid the way her heart beat.

Because regardless of what anyone thought, including her mother, she was no longer able to ignore _whatever_ these feelings were for Klaus. She stared up at him, her eyes huge and his silence unnerving, so she broke it.

“Hi.”

A dimple cut his cheek. “Hello, Caroline.”

“What are you doing here?”

He pulled out a sheaf of bills from his back pocket, lifted them up. “Your payment.”

“Is that all?”

He looked abashed at her statement then started to laugh. “While I know what you mean love, it was a bit unexpected hearing ‘is that all’ as I hand you a stack of money that could buy this entire neighborhood.”

Caroline quirked a lip, showing mild amusement, but her heart was in her throat and she needed him to say something. Was it just her? Had she read him the wrong way? Did _she_ even want this?

“I wanted to show you something, actually,” he finally said, reaching his other hand out and pulling her to standing. “Will you come with me, Caroline?”

“Where are we going?” she asked, carefully stowing the money in her pocket.

“Let me guess, you’re not a fan of surprises.”

She smacked his shoulder as she pulled alongside him, both of them walking along the neighborhood road back towards the top of the hill. A breeze raised the sound of the fall’s song and sent a chill through the air; Caroline shivered, wishing she’d grabbed a sweater. “No seriously where are we going?”

He grinned at her, or perhaps he’d never stopped, she wasn’t sure. “On another day, I would take you to far-flung places on the globe and watch you charm the natives out of house and home. But for today, we’re heading there.” He pointed, and Caroline looked up.

“The old wizard’s house? Why?” Caroline asked.

He looked sideways at her, restraining his laughter. “Do you trust me, Caroline?”

“Of course I trust you, but what does trust have to do with me not liking surprises?” She grumbled, crossing her arms under her chest. There was a beat of silence, and when she looked up, Klaus was staring at her, dark and covetous, and she felt her hummingbird heart beat in response.

They crested the hill and he led her into the back garden, one hand guiding her at the small of her back. She’d gotten so used to his close presence in some ways, but this felt different, and her heart gave another unasked-for lurch.

“Here,” Klaus said, and she stopped. They stood in front of the falls, the eerie music almost discordant this close.

"Don't tell me, you helped design this place too?"

"No," Klaus responded, his voice distant, in the throes of a memory. "I used to come here as a boy."

The weight of his history felt heavy on her shoulders, and she fell silent, something dark in his tone reminding her of how little she really knew him. She resolved to ask.

Klaus walked a few steps further and knelt, searching along the dusty ground close to the base of the falls and Caroline stood still, watching him as he seemed to find what he was looking for, a lever she had never seen buried behind a patch of weeds abutting the glass of the falls. He pulled it and stood with an almost boyish grin aimed back at her, rejoining her a few feet back. The air whistled through the falls as they stood together, and Caroline gave a soft gasp when she saw it.

An illusion, a dancer pirouetting among the falls, the music in time with her motions. She leapt and spun and turned, not confined to mortal limitations, leaping the falls ten feet in the air, her limbs bright projections against the deep blue evening sky. Caroline turned to Klaus, her eyes wet with the sheen of emotion, and there he was staring only at her. Her breath caught in her throat again as she stared back and he leaned in close, brushing across her lips with the barest of kisses. She thought of wizards toppled from towers, of hearts torn from men, and found that she could not balance these sides. So she decided to stop trying, and surged in to kiss him back, the graceful lines of the ballerina’s image a backdrop, the chorus of the falls their soundtrack.

He broke their kiss to press his lips to her neck, his hand combing up through her hair to cradle the back of her head, pulling the hairs taut, and Caroline's responding moan only spurred him on. He pulled away and Caroline's eyes widened at his gaze. It was dark and calculating like she was used to, but something more lay atop of it, the blown pupils, the dark gleam of desire. He kissed her again, and she brought her own hands up to tug at his hair. He spoke words against her skin in a murmur, Caroline too far lost in her lust to pay attention until he pulled away again, his thumb tracing the swell of her kiss-stung lips, his expression fierce.

"No one ever told me," he said, narrowing his eyes, "and in a thousand years I never thought..."

"Thought what?"

"What seems simple to me now, love." His hands moved to rest on her hips, drawing her flush against him, his desire evident, his lips parted as he studied her. "That having someone stand beside me is so much better than them standing beneath."

It was melodramatic, even awkward in its delivery, but his expression made up for it, a mixture of lust and awe and admiration and vulnerability. It was his way of baring his underbelly, this consumate predator, and Caroline pushed forward to meet his lips, her hands bracketing his face as she tried to show her own feelings she wasn't yet ready to tell. The image of the dancer took another pass, her filmy gown swirling in the night air, her pointed step arching over their heads as she spun to the music of the falls, and Caroline thought that maybe, just maybe, it might not be so bad to be a queen.


End file.
